So today is 07/07/07, and I thought we should mark the occasion with a special tribute to the number 7.
Seven is of course, a number of almost mystical sygnificance - we have the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Wonders of the World, the Seven Seas, the Secret Seven, the Seven Ages of Man and Seventh Heaven. There are seven days in a week.
Jesus told his followers to forgive one other seventy times seven and there are seven books in the Harry Potter series. Seven is the number symbolically associated with God, and is the number of letters in the name Jehovah.
Seven is what you get if you subtract the digits of my house number, and also appears twice in my phone number and three times in my mobile number; I was born in 1978 and if you add up all those occurrences it means that the number seven appears seven times in the story of my life.
Every day I get up at seven o'clock (ish) and drive seven miles to work. I have lived in my present house for seven years and one time I ate seven Weetabix for breakfast.
Seven is, of course, a prime number, but it is also, apart from the trivial case of 1, the first happy number (trust me, I have a PhD in this). It is also not only a prime but a Mersenne Prime, being, as it is, 2^3 - 1. It is also 2*3+1, which makes it the first, and possibly only, smile prime (which I just invented).
Beer is sold in packs of six, which is almost seven, as is 5.75%, which is the current interest rate in the UK (at least it was when I checked yesterday; at the present rate of increase it could be seventy times seven by now).
And so we see that seven is a number without which we would have one less deadly sin, one less wonder of the world, no smile primes, and we'd be done with Harry Potter by now.
So let us celebrate the number seven, on this, its special day.
Saturday, 7 July 2007
Friday, 6 July 2007
Current Affairs
So I feel that my blog should deal more with current affairs, and be up to date and so on. After all, in the past... oh, I dunno... matter of days we have had a new Prime Minister, some attempted terrorist attacks, and a freed journalist. And I haven't breathed a word of it. I mean, if my blog were preserved for antiquity and used by historians in the future to get a snapshot of life in the noughties, these crucial elements would be left out. What if there's a nuclear war and my blog is all that survives? Eh? WHAT THEN?
For this reason, I shall share with you my favourite news story of this week. This is the rather charming tale of a flotilla of 30,000 rubber ducks which got washed off a container ship somewhere 15 years ago, and has been swimming the high seas ever since (actually, they split into two factions early on - 20000 reached the shores of Indonesia, but the remaining 10000 are still swimming). They have journeyed north and south, east and west - losing friends to ice floes, currents and winds - and yet, ever persevering. The tale has hit the headlines because they are now headed for Britain and Ireland (WHY?! I'd be off to the Maldives if I were them). Anyway, they may continue to cirle the globe for 100 years and are helping scientists to track climate change, or something.
The particularly heart-warming part of this story is that the duckies have pretty much stayed together for 15 years (apart from the ones that... umm... *shhh*... died). Just sailing around, always sticking by each other. 'Where shall we head now lads?'... 'How about Turkey?'.. 'Sounds like us! Let's go!' and off they all float, in one big convoy of duckies. We could learn lessons from this.. about kinship, teamwork and the art of being there for each other. You see, the duckies have made it this far because they have worked as one, made decisions as one, and acted as one. They are one body of duckies, each with a different role (the encouragers: 'Come on boys, into the gulf stream, nice and easy, go with it, let it take you, that's the style'; the brains: 'The Maldives are THIS way lads, follow the sun, follow the sun'; and of course the decoys: 'Archie, go choke that shark, would ye? - every one else, SWIM!!'), and yet each one necessary.
As for duckies, so for us: each of us with our own part to play, each of us different, and yet everyone necessary. There may be a sermon in that somewhere. But we must learn the lesson.
So please keep your eyes peeled for the duckies, and if you see them, let your heart be warmed by this inspiring tale of togetherness and teamwork. It's also worth grabbing a few if you can - they're worth about £500 each.
Rubber Duckies, we're AWFULLY fond of you.
For this reason, I shall share with you my favourite news story of this week. This is the rather charming tale of a flotilla of 30,000 rubber ducks which got washed off a container ship somewhere 15 years ago, and has been swimming the high seas ever since (actually, they split into two factions early on - 20000 reached the shores of Indonesia, but the remaining 10000 are still swimming). They have journeyed north and south, east and west - losing friends to ice floes, currents and winds - and yet, ever persevering. The tale has hit the headlines because they are now headed for Britain and Ireland (WHY?! I'd be off to the Maldives if I were them). Anyway, they may continue to cirle the globe for 100 years and are helping scientists to track climate change, or something.
The particularly heart-warming part of this story is that the duckies have pretty much stayed together for 15 years (apart from the ones that... umm... *shhh*... died). Just sailing around, always sticking by each other. 'Where shall we head now lads?'... 'How about Turkey?'.. 'Sounds like us! Let's go!' and off they all float, in one big convoy of duckies. We could learn lessons from this.. about kinship, teamwork and the art of being there for each other. You see, the duckies have made it this far because they have worked as one, made decisions as one, and acted as one. They are one body of duckies, each with a different role (the encouragers: 'Come on boys, into the gulf stream, nice and easy, go with it, let it take you, that's the style'; the brains: 'The Maldives are THIS way lads, follow the sun, follow the sun'; and of course the decoys: 'Archie, go choke that shark, would ye? - every one else, SWIM!!'), and yet each one necessary.
As for duckies, so for us: each of us with our own part to play, each of us different, and yet everyone necessary. There may be a sermon in that somewhere. But we must learn the lesson.
So please keep your eyes peeled for the duckies, and if you see them, let your heart be warmed by this inspiring tale of togetherness and teamwork. It's also worth grabbing a few if you can - they're worth about £500 each.
Rubber Duckies, we're AWFULLY fond of you.
Tuesday, 3 July 2007
Tired and lacking in profundity
Well, I haven't had a lot to say for myself for a week or so, and that upsets me, for I fear I am becoming dull and boring. The best explanation is that I have been tired and overworked. I did have some thoughts that were the start of blog posts, but they just didn't really go anywhere.
It's not all doom and gloom though; there is light at the end of the tunnel, for I have started re-reading The God Delusion. The more I read it, the more I am convinced that in 50 years' time Dawkins will either be known as the greatest intellectual charlatan that ever lived, or the most famous atheist to convert to theism. I was laughing out loud at parts of it; it is so poorly researched and argued that it is actually comical... or would be, if people didn't take it so seriously. At other bits I got really angry; Dawkins is a very intelligent man, and he must know that he's misleading people here; he must know that he hasn't bothered researching anything and that his arguments are undeveloped and contradictory. Surely?!
So I have taken to keeping a pencil by my side as I read, and marking all the untrue, out of context, exaggerated, irrelevant and logically nonsensical bits in the margin. The margin is quite full. This is quite fun; it provides a way to vent my frustration with the whole load of nonsense, without throwing it out the window (and possibly hitting someone on the head; I am especially wary of the new neighbour after Do Zavtra went to visit her and got her right in the middle of a shower. Good start.). In the meantime, there's a brilliant review here.
In other non-news, there has still been no contact from Q&B regarding the cupboard door. So I have decided to write to them and demand answers (which brings me to a grammar question: is it OK to start a sentence with 'So' these days? And what about 'But' and 'Because'? lilytodd, can you help?).
You see, I think writing may be more effective than phoning, for several reasons:
1. I'm bad at talking on the phone, but good at writing letters (I once managed to get a refund from EasyJet that I wasn't really entitled to - if you've ever even tried to get a refund from EasyJet that you WERE entitled to, you'll know how impressive this is).
2. On the phone there is no time to go into the full story, but in a letter I can explain it all. Maybe I'll send them a link to my blog post. I think the full story makes quite an impression.
3. They can't keep fobbing me off to different departments while I sit on hold. They can send the letter round, but I don't really care what they do with it as long as they answer it.
I will of course keep you posted.
In another development, Me In My Small Corner tells me that I can order the jeans from Next to come to the store (sorry, store?! - what is this, Kentucky?), shop, without paying postage and packing, and then I can take them back if they don't fit or I don't like them. So this is good.
It's not all doom and gloom though; there is light at the end of the tunnel, for I have started re-reading The God Delusion. The more I read it, the more I am convinced that in 50 years' time Dawkins will either be known as the greatest intellectual charlatan that ever lived, or the most famous atheist to convert to theism. I was laughing out loud at parts of it; it is so poorly researched and argued that it is actually comical... or would be, if people didn't take it so seriously. At other bits I got really angry; Dawkins is a very intelligent man, and he must know that he's misleading people here; he must know that he hasn't bothered researching anything and that his arguments are undeveloped and contradictory. Surely?!
So I have taken to keeping a pencil by my side as I read, and marking all the untrue, out of context, exaggerated, irrelevant and logically nonsensical bits in the margin. The margin is quite full. This is quite fun; it provides a way to vent my frustration with the whole load of nonsense, without throwing it out the window (and possibly hitting someone on the head; I am especially wary of the new neighbour after Do Zavtra went to visit her and got her right in the middle of a shower. Good start.). In the meantime, there's a brilliant review here.
In other non-news, there has still been no contact from Q&B regarding the cupboard door. So I have decided to write to them and demand answers (which brings me to a grammar question: is it OK to start a sentence with 'So' these days? And what about 'But' and 'Because'? lilytodd, can you help?).
You see, I think writing may be more effective than phoning, for several reasons:
1. I'm bad at talking on the phone, but good at writing letters (I once managed to get a refund from EasyJet that I wasn't really entitled to - if you've ever even tried to get a refund from EasyJet that you WERE entitled to, you'll know how impressive this is).
2. On the phone there is no time to go into the full story, but in a letter I can explain it all. Maybe I'll send them a link to my blog post. I think the full story makes quite an impression.
3. They can't keep fobbing me off to different departments while I sit on hold. They can send the letter round, but I don't really care what they do with it as long as they answer it.
I will of course keep you posted.
In another development, Me In My Small Corner tells me that I can order the jeans from Next to come to the store (sorry, store?! - what is this, Kentucky?), shop, without paying postage and packing, and then I can take them back if they don't fit or I don't like them. So this is good.
Wednesday, 27 June 2007
When food bites back
I just injured myself with the same Pringle in 3 (yes, Three) Different Ways.
Injury number 1: I choked on the first bite and hurt my throat.
Injury number 2: As I bit into the remainder of the Pringle, a little bit flew off and went into my eye; this hurt my eyelid.
Injury number 3: I stuck my finger in my eye to get the little bit of Pringle out, thus filling my eye with the salt that the Pringle had left on my hand. This hurt my eye A LOT.
If this had not happened, though, I wouldn't have had anything to tell you today, so it's not all bad.
Injury number 1: I choked on the first bite and hurt my throat.
Injury number 2: As I bit into the remainder of the Pringle, a little bit flew off and went into my eye; this hurt my eyelid.
Injury number 3: I stuck my finger in my eye to get the little bit of Pringle out, thus filling my eye with the salt that the Pringle had left on my hand. This hurt my eye A LOT.
If this had not happened, though, I wouldn't have had anything to tell you today, so it's not all bad.
Tuesday, 26 June 2007
A dilemma, and a new project
Around this time every year, my mother and I have the following conversation:
Mum: Have you thought of anything you want for your birthday yet?
Me: Ummmm.... no... haven't really thought about it....
Mum: But your birthday was a fortnight ago! There must be something you want...
Me: Ummmm... can't think of anything... maybe something for the garden?
Mum: What about clothes? You could do with clothes.
Me: Ummmmmmmm....... yeah, I'll have a look some day when I'm in town.
This goes on for most of the summer.
So I was delighted when, flicking through a magazine in the doctor's surgery a couple of weeks ago, I saw an advert for Next, showing a girl wearing jeans which I just thought were lovely. AH HA! I thought... I have my birthday present from my parents sorted! At last! She was also wearing sandals, which I thought my sister could buy for me. Double score! (I hate shopping; about twice a year I decide that I need new clothes, so I look at magazines and catalogues until I decide what I want, then go and buy it - this saves me from browsing, which is pure tedium in anywhere but a bookshop).
These jeans were a nice colour, kinda baggy, and with funky turn-up bits at the bottom. I even checked them on the internet to get a bigger picture, and see them from different angles and things, such was my liking for the jeans. You can see a picture of them here if you like (note: I think I will not get the hat or the bikini top; the hat would look ridiculous in Belfast, and bikini tops and me - not friends).
So at the weekend, I went to the local shopping centre, to Next, to buy the jeans. But they didn't have them. So I thought, never mind, I'll go into the city centre some evening. Today came my evening of choice, so I duly walked (walked, mind) to town, went to Next, and they still didn't have them!!!!
I ask you: what is the point of advertising something and then not having it in your shops?! Tsk. So now what to do about my birthday present? I'm in two minds as to whether or not I should order them online, but then they might not fit, and they might not be as nice in real life plus I'd have to pay postage and packing; on the other hand, though, I do really like them and I do need new jeans quite urgently.
So I'm a bit miffed that the birthday present problem carries on.
Anyway, this was more than made up for by the discovery that Australian police (or government or someone - doesn't matter) have launched a new advert to try to stop motorists from speeding. The advert shows a guy speeding past a couple of girls who then turn to each other and exchange 'knowing glances' while holding up a little finger, bent over limply.... the implication being that the guy in the car is...you know... errrr... not so... well... manly...
Needless to say, I have decided that we (meaning me and my loyal viewers, that's you) are going to adopt this gesture in Belfast. We shall extend it to include those who drive 4x4s (I really dislike 4x4s, you may have noticed).
Right, my tea's ready (I wish I'd put more than a third of a quiche in the oven).
Mum: Have you thought of anything you want for your birthday yet?
Me: Ummmm.... no... haven't really thought about it....
Mum: But your birthday was a fortnight ago! There must be something you want...
Me: Ummmm... can't think of anything... maybe something for the garden?
Mum: What about clothes? You could do with clothes.
Me: Ummmmmmmm....... yeah, I'll have a look some day when I'm in town.
This goes on for most of the summer.
So I was delighted when, flicking through a magazine in the doctor's surgery a couple of weeks ago, I saw an advert for Next, showing a girl wearing jeans which I just thought were lovely. AH HA! I thought... I have my birthday present from my parents sorted! At last! She was also wearing sandals, which I thought my sister could buy for me. Double score! (I hate shopping; about twice a year I decide that I need new clothes, so I look at magazines and catalogues until I decide what I want, then go and buy it - this saves me from browsing, which is pure tedium in anywhere but a bookshop).
These jeans were a nice colour, kinda baggy, and with funky turn-up bits at the bottom. I even checked them on the internet to get a bigger picture, and see them from different angles and things, such was my liking for the jeans. You can see a picture of them here if you like (note: I think I will not get the hat or the bikini top; the hat would look ridiculous in Belfast, and bikini tops and me - not friends).
So at the weekend, I went to the local shopping centre, to Next, to buy the jeans. But they didn't have them. So I thought, never mind, I'll go into the city centre some evening. Today came my evening of choice, so I duly walked (walked, mind) to town, went to Next, and they still didn't have them!!!!
I ask you: what is the point of advertising something and then not having it in your shops?! Tsk. So now what to do about my birthday present? I'm in two minds as to whether or not I should order them online, but then they might not fit, and they might not be as nice in real life plus I'd have to pay postage and packing; on the other hand, though, I do really like them and I do need new jeans quite urgently.
So I'm a bit miffed that the birthday present problem carries on.
Anyway, this was more than made up for by the discovery that Australian police (or government or someone - doesn't matter) have launched a new advert to try to stop motorists from speeding. The advert shows a guy speeding past a couple of girls who then turn to each other and exchange 'knowing glances' while holding up a little finger, bent over limply.... the implication being that the guy in the car is...you know... errrr... not so... well... manly...
Needless to say, I have decided that we (meaning me and my loyal viewers, that's you) are going to adopt this gesture in Belfast. We shall extend it to include those who drive 4x4s (I really dislike 4x4s, you may have noticed).
Right, my tea's ready (I wish I'd put more than a third of a quiche in the oven).
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